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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469201">Take You Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessQueen321/pseuds/DarknessQueen321'>DarknessQueen321</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Out of Character, Possessive Voldemort (Harry Potter), no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:46:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessQueen321/pseuds/DarknessQueen321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this Tumblr post:</p><p>“Shh, it’s alright,” the villain said. “You’re doing beautifully and I’m so proud of you. But that’s enough now. It was cruel of them to make you fight me - you could never have won. It’s not your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>Hope Potter is fifteen years old, and her parents are dead. So is her Godfather. The Dursley family hates her. Voldemort has returned from the dead, and the entire Wizarding World refuses to believe her. She's been labelled a liar, a freak, an attention seeker... and all because she tried to warn the population. </p><p>Well, she's tired. She's tired of not being listened to, and she's tired of being manipulated by Dumbledore. She's tired of having her friends treat her like an infant. She wants to be able to run free, explore, be a teenager! So when her nemesis Voldemort gives her that chance... who is she to say no?</p><p> </p><p>(End of OOTP onwards + Major Canon-divergence)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>376</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hope really was an idiot. A foolish, gullible, easily manipulated <em>idiot</em>. No, ‘idiot’ was too kind an adjective for her. What was it Snape called her last potions lesson? Ah, yes, a good-for-nothing imbecile who would struggle to even breathe if her body didn’t do it automatically. Yes, that seemed right.</p><p>Hope sunk down onto the stone steps before the Veil of Death. Fighting continued on behind her, each attacker seemingly oblivious to her loss. Light, Dark, Ministry worker… none of them hurt as she did at that moment. Her fingers trailed the elegant edges of the arch, her nails catching in every engraved line.</p><p>Not even Remus could understand; Padfoot was his friend, Sirius Black was her Godfather. Her last chance to remove herself from the Dursley’s care, her last chance to escape Dumbledore’s ‘For The Greater Good’ thumb. He was <em>hers</em>, dammit. <em>Hers</em>! She loved him, she needed him, and he was gone.</p><p>Someone was shaking her. Hands slithered under her arms, pulling her up onto her feet. Hope blinked once, twice, and finally registered the blaring noise in her ears for Remus’s voice.</p><p>“Hope - Hope listen, honey -”</p><p>She shook out of his grip and reached towards the Veil.</p><p>“Hope!” Remus pulled her back as her fingers ghosted against the wisping cloth, her grip returning tenfold. She could hardly breathe so tight were his arms against her ribs. “Sirius is dead, I know it hurts, but we can cry later. He wouldn’t want you to die too.”</p><p>“Sirius isn't dead!” Hope screamed. She tore against his arms, struggling in his hold. Her nails came up to his face and scratched and scratched until she could feel liquid run onto her knuckles. He didn't let go.</p><p>“Hope! Listen to me! He’s dead, he’s gone, and if you don't pull yourself together you will be too! Look!”</p><p>Hope looked. Her eyes glazed over the battlefield that was the ministry, and then, as her sense came back to her, she checked it over again. Bellatrix stood cackling by Arthur Weasley’s bloodied body, his small shakes and moans the only real proof of life. Shaklebolt was encircled by seven masked Death Eaters, and he was only winning by a hair. Mad-Eye was crawling across the room, heading towards his protege Tonks. Neville - sweet, loving Neville - was attacking Lucius Malfoy with such power and hatred Hope felt pride swell up inside her, despite the dark moment.<br/>And finally, as though their fight was the centrepiece of the occasion, Dumbledore and Voldemort were locked in a never-ending duel. Spells and objects flew at each other seamlessly, neither bothered by the blinding lights. It was an epic battle of calculated attacks, statues were animated to fight against the Dark Lord, and bricks seemed to effortlessly re-build themselves into stone cages for Dumbledore.</p><p>“It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom,” said Dumbledore calmly. “The Aurors are on their way-”</p><p>“By which point I will have killed you!” spat Voldemort. He flicked his wand, and a jet of green light flew past Dumbledore, barely missing him.</p><p>Remus loosened his hold on Hope. “Are you ready?’</p><p>Wide-eyed, she twisted around to face him. “Ready?” she rasped. “No! Of course not!”</p><p>He chuckled. “That's the spirit,” he said, clearly misinterpretation her fear for something else. He squeezed her hand. “For Sirius!” he cried, letting go of her and running towards Shaklebolt, who had made no progress with his attackers.</p><p>“Remus… <em>Fuck</em>!” she cursed, as she realised she was alone, standing next to a Veil that killed her Godfather, overseeing a battle she was a martyr for. She squeezed her eyes tight, counted to three, and opened them again. No progress, except for the sinking feeling of guilt in her stomach. “Fine,” she muttered.</p><p>She clasped her wand tightly, and, against her better instincts, headed for Voldemort and Dumbledore.</p><p>Another jet of green light flew from Voldemort’s wand. This time it was the one-armed centaur, galloping in front of Dumbledore, that took the blast and shattered into a hundred pieces, but before the fragments had even hit the floor, Dumbledore had drawn back his wand and waved it as though brandishing a whip. A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a moment, it seemed Dumbledore had won, but then the fiery rope became a serpent, which relinquished its hold on Voldemort at once and turned, hissing furiously, to face Dumbledore.</p><p>“Look out!” she screamed. Voldemort turned to face her. He flicked his wand lazily, and the snake launched onto Dumbledore, knocking him to the ground.</p><p>“Hope, dearest, you’ve joined the party.”</p><p>“No…” she whispered. Her eyes locked onto his, red orbs meeting green, and she was captivated by his gaze. “Please, I-”</p><p>“Begging for your life, little girl? And I thought you were the Light’s saviour, their final hope.”</p><p>“Really? Puns about my name? That’s the best you can do?” she snarked, although her voice wavered.</p><p>“Oh, I can do a lot more than that,” he teased. Voldemort strode to her, stopping when he got close enough that he could count the freckles on her nose. He cocked his head. “But I must admit, dearest, you caught me by surprise. A hero pleading for mercy? That’s certainly something new.”</p><p>“I wasn’t-”</p><p>“Oh? And so the lie continues.” He smiled at her, full teeth and pink gums. He brought a hand to her chin, tilting it up. Hope’s hand fumbled with her wand, twisting it uselessly in her palm. “Do you really need that, Hope?”</p><p>“My wand? Of course I do, you bastard! Fuck you!”</p><p>She wrenched out of his hand, taking several steps backward and pointing her wand squarely between his eyes. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dumbledore fighting with the snake still, and it gave her strength. “<em>Sectumsempra</em>!” she cried. Voldemort dodged her spell easily.</p><p>“That’s the best you can do?” he asked, mirroring her words from before. He took a step closer to her.</p><p>“No!” she screamed. Her hand shook even more, but Hope held it steadily towards his face. Her lips began to form the sound of another curse, but before she could finish the first syllable, he had plucked her wand neatly out of her grasp.</p><p>“You are many things, dearest. A fighter, yes, but a dueller, no.”</p><p>She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, wordless at the one time she needed them. Hope watched Voldemort pocket her wand in a cloak pocket, and still, she could not speak.</p><p>“It’s alright,” he soothed. He cupped her cheek in his hand. Hope shivered from a mix of fear and cold. “You’ve done so well, are <em>doing</em> so well, but it’s time to stop.”</p><p>“No, I-”</p><p>Voldemort presses his thumb against her lips. “I’m not done, dearest. It was so very cruel of Dumbledore to raise you to fight me - you never could have won. It’s not your fault, none of it is.”</p><p>He can see she’s searching for words, feels her lips press against his thumb as she goes to say something and thinks better of it.</p><p>“I think, Hope, I will take you home. You will be safe, and happy, and cared for. Will you come with me?”</p><p>It’s the first real decision she’s been allowed to make in forever, when you consider her coming to the Ministry to save Sirius was because of Voldemort messing with her brain, and that her fighting him was because of years of pressure and expectations. And her godfather just died and she wasn't allowed to grieve, and half the world hates her and the other half thinks she’s crazy, and everything has just been <em>so. fucking. tiring.</em> and all she wants is to do is sleep for a million years and pretend she doesn't exist, so she does the stupidest thing ever.</p><p>She says yes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The crack warned Hope of their arrival before anything else, but soon enough she felt her feet hit the ground and bent over at the knees, dry-heaving at the feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrongwrongwrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>why-is-my-stomach-near-my-feet?.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck was that?” she gasped, before coughing so violently she feared blood might come out. Voldemort’s hand hovered above her back before he awkwardly patted it with the strength you might reserve for holding a mere grape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apparition,” he answered. Even in the dark of the grassy field, they seem to have appeared in, she can still see his mouth thin into a tight line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Muggles call it teleportation. Essentially, it is transferring one’s body, mind, and soul into a new area,” he explained. He stares at her for a moment, before asking, “You’ve honestly never heard of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I grew up Muggle, remember? You killed my parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes,” he said faintly. “I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope didn’t have the energy to push the subject, so she tried a new topic. “Where are we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The grounds outside Malfoy Manor.” As if sensing that she was about to complain, he began walking swiftly in the general direction of where Hope could make out a large, looming mansion. “Follow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope hurried after him, her short legs taking three steps for his every one. “You can’t be serious,” she said when she finally caught up to him. She flushed red when she realised she was only just short of panting. “It’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Malfoys</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I am Lord Voldemort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope rolled her eyes, although admittedly he had a point. “Why did you take me, anyway?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you come?” he returned. He stopped long enough to look at her, to stare deep into her eyes for the second time that day. She couldn't escape his gaze, so locked in a trance she was. She couldn't help but notice how… normal they seemed. For him at least, especially compared to his resurrected body at the graveyard. Red snake-like slits still adorned his face, but the pupils seemed wider, darker, and his overall eye-shape more rounded. He had eyelashes this time, too, thin and short, but still, eyelashes. She could even see the beginnings of eyebrows, as though he had shaved them off and they were only now growing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to your…” She gestured at his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to yours?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope rolled her eyes. “Well, there’s no need to be rude. If you’re not going to give me full answers, tell me now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voldemort’s upper lip curled slightly. “And so she regains her fire,” he said. “As for answers, you will wait until we reach absolute privacy before I reveal my secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he set off again, taking so long strides she was almost sure he was subtly making fun of her height. “Right,” she muttered. “Privacy with the Malfoys. Can’t wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Voldemort yards ahead of her, and nothing but empty fields around her, Hope was left alone with her stewing thoughts. Why had she gone so willingly with Voldemort? As terrible as the night had been, she forced herself to think back. Perhaps he had spelled her, or she had been concussed in the Forbidden Forest where she had left Umbridge with the centaurs. Maybe the shock of Sirius’s death had hit her too hard, and her mind had snapped. And then suddenly, she wasn't thinking about Voldemort at all, but instead her godfather, and she remembered his infectious laugh and his overprotective side that constantly came into play. She bit down on her tongue and pressed her fingernails into her palms. She couldn't lose focus, not now, not while following the Dark Lord to Malfoy’s house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because </span>
  <em>
    <span>Merlin’s great saggy balls</span>
  </em>
  <span> she had agreed to go with Voldemort!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t threatened her friends, hadn’t kidnapped her, hadn’t compelled her. He had offered her freedom from her destiny, and she had jumped at the chance. Some heroine she was if she’d leave her family behind during battle to go willingly with the enemy. Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At some point in their walking, when they were finally nearing the looming mansion, the sun began to rise, setting a golden glow across the fields. In the distance, she could see a large pond awaken as rays hit it, animals beginning to move about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hope!” Voldemort called, and she looked up to see he had stopped once more, this time at the edge of a gravel pathway that started a few meters before continuing under a pair of wrought-iron gates. He raised an arm outwards, beckoning her. “Come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She quickened her pace, speed-walking as fast as she could in the condition she was in. It felt as though she had been walking for hours, although she knew that her fatigue most likely came from the minor wounds she still sported. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did we-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pressed a finger to her lips. “One moment,” he said. “Teeley!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>pop’</span>
  </em>
  <span> reverberated through the air as a house-elf appeared in front of the two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Dark Lord has called Teeley?” the elf stated. Her voice was high-pitched and shook slightly, but she carried herself well, standing tall despite the monster in front of her (Was he really a monster, if he had rescued her? Was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hope </span>
  </em>
  <span>a monster?). Teeley had bulging green eyes the size of small tennis balls, and drooping bat ears. She had on a white pillowcase decorated in flowers, none the same and all obviously stitched in by the elf herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Elf, you have the power to change the wards, correct?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Teely is being having that power, Master Dark Lord. Am I adding </span>
  <span>her</span>
  <span>?” Teeley asked, nodding her head at Hope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Hope said, the word garbled because of Voldemort’s finger still pressed against her lips. He really had an awful habit of doing that, she thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Hope Jasmine Potter,” Voldemort said. “You will add her to the wards, and then ensure the rest of the elves know of her arrival. She will be staying in the Purple Bedroom.” He looked down at Teeley, seemingly daring the elf to question it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Teeley is being doing that right away, Master Dark Lord.” She curtsied slightly, before popping herself away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Apparating</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Hope realised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Useful things, house-elves,” Voldemort said casually. He removed his finger from her mouth; apparently, she was now allowed to talk. “No one ever considers their magic useful for anything other than chores.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er, right,” Hope agreed. She wondered what Hermione might say if she knew Voldemort’s shared opinions on house-elves. “I suppose these ‘wards’ are the privacy you were referring to? I still have questions, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I will answer them in due time. But for now, why don’t you just experience the beauty of Malfoy Manor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope’s eye twitched. “Why do I feel like it’ll be impossible to ever get a straight answer out of you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh look, you already know me so well.” Was it Hope’s mistake, or was Voldemort </span>
  <em>
    <span>teasing </span>
  </em>
  <span>her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unwilling to deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> particular question, Hope turned her attention to the manor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Manor</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she scoffed inwardly. That was like saying Hogwarts was just a few dorms and classrooms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she and Voldemort passed through the gates with ease - their bodies slipping through the bars as easily as if they were smoke - Hope let her eyes wander the grounds. There were so many trees the acreage was borderline forest, the occasional animal peering through the tree coverage before scampering away. Albino peacocks roamed the grass, their white feathers a stark contrast to the dark green of the grass. As they neared the estate, Hope spotted several elegant fountains spurting coloured, literally sparkling water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The actual Manor itself was towering, Hope counted four stories above ground, with indistinguishable towers on each corner. Lights flickered from the occasional diamond-paned window. The actual building itself was made of stone and brick, only serving to accentuate the age of the estate and thus how long the Malfoy bloodline had been around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bit underwhelming, isn’t it?” Hope said, sarcasm lacing her words. Voldemort clucked his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I seriously hope you say that to Narcissa. I think she’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span> if someone said that to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're not very nice, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am a Dark Lord,” he reminded her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you keep reminding me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reached the doors, and they swung wide open within a meter of distance. Irritated as she was with Voldemort, Hope couldn't help but forget it when she saw the beautiful interior decoration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thick carpet covered the entirety of the entrance hall, and an elegant, obviously expensive chandelier lit the room. There was a small buffet table showcasing a small golden statue of a snake, carefully designed and engraved with markings. She’d bet anything it was real, solid gold. Painting portraits of past Malfoys graced a wall to the right of her, though all were sound asleep, or at least pretending to be. A small vase of flowers sat -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman burst into the room, hair flying behind her with her speed. She was well-dressed, evidently with high fashion standards, and wore full makeup, though it was much lighter than Aunt Petunias. Hope recognised her as Narcissa Malfoy, having seen her many times over her few years in the Wizarding World. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drac- Draco, is he alive?” Narcissa asked, frantically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Save your hysterics, Narcissa,” Voldemort said scornfully. “Your son was not present in the battle, though your husband was. You’ll be pleased to know Lucius is alive also, though he may not be when he returns from Azkaban.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa dropped to her knees immediately and began kissing the hem of Voldemort’s dark cloak. “My Lord, please, I beg of you, Lucius is a dedicated servant,” she pleaded. “The Malfoys have always followed in your glorious shadow, always providing what support we can. My Lord, I beg, please-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be silent,” Voldemort said lowly. “I did not ask you for your mindless, heedless begging. I am well aware of your faithful existence, just as aware I am that Lucius behaved erratically tonight and nearly got himself killed. His actions could have destroyed everything. As it is, I am yet to decide on his fate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa shifted on the floor. Her mouth opened slightly before she clamped it shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Voldemort’s demeanour shifted. He slumped slightly, and his face lost its aggression. “Come here, Hope,” he said softly. He gestured her forward with his hand.”I believe you have met Narcissa before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa started, clearly having not spotted the teenage girl until this moment. Her face flickered with confusion and unease, before settling with a cold, impenetrable gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um.” Hope came over to him, stopping just behind him. “I’ve seen her before, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is a loyal servant of mine, and of course is the Lady of the house. While you stay here, should you encounter any issues and cannot find me, Narcissa will help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope nodded. She tried not to think about what type of ‘help’ Malfoy’s mother might offer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You looked worried, pet,” he said. His lip tugged up into a sadistic smile. “Narcissa, stand up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did so, her face drained of blood. “My lord-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I not instruct you to be silent?” he asked rhetorically. “Give Hope your wand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With less hesitation than Hope had expected from Narcissa, she held out her wand to Hope, tip facing away. Her eyes darted around before settling on an antique vase in the corner of the room. Hope felt sickened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no I can't-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must I ask you to be silent also, dearest?” Voldemort tutted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s her wand!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voldemort’s fingers curled around her left wrist, stopping her from moving away. “Take the damn wand, Hope!” His eyes flashed a deeper red, and she had a vision of him from the Triwizard Tournament, snake-faced once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope cursed under her breath, and accepted the wand. It felt wrong to hold, as though the magic of it was straining against her grip, trying to return to its owner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good girl,” he purred. “You may do with it what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snap it? Throw it away? Crucio Narcissa with her own wand? Was that what Voldemort wanted? Hope shifted with uncertainty before pressing the wand back into Narcissa’s palm. Voldemort settled her with an unusual gaze. What she wouldn't give to know what he was thinking…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Narcissa, Hope has indeed been as gracious as me. What would you say to her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To - to Potter?” she checked. Voldemort glared at her as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Thank you, My - er, Lady. You are incredibly gracious, and I thank you for your kindness.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. You’re welcome,” Hope said awkwardly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you see, pet, Narcissa is now both indebted to you, as well as below you. She will not harm you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked as though he wanted Hope to say something, but she had no words for what just happened, so she gave a minuscule nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Now that the </span>
  <em>
    <span>introductions</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been made,” Voldemort said, (and was that amusement?), “I suppose it is only right for Hope to explain her presence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope’s jaw dropped, and she shot him a pleading look.. Was he serious? She didn't understand it herself! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Though if she is unwilling, I will,” he continued. Hope slumped with silent relief. “Hope has declared herself neutral in this war, and I am taking her under my wing to care for her. She is for lack of better terms, my ward. She will be treated with as much respect and loyalty you would me. Questions, Narcissa?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa shook her head, wide-eyed at the statement, though polite enough not to make a comment. Or scared enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent. Narcissa, leave. Hope, follow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope hurried to chase after him for the millionth time that night, steadfastly refusing to check over her shoulder to look at Narcissa run away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are your legs so long?” she puffed, finally catching up to the much taller man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are yours so short?” he returned. Hope rolled her eyes at that, but let it slide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, Voldemort led Hope to a mahogany door with a golden nameplate. On closer inspection, she saw the Death Eater mark inscribed, along with several snakes. Clearly, this was where Voldemort resided. Perhaps hers was across the hall?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here we are,” he said. Before she could say anything, he tugged her into the room by the crook of her elbow. Whatever hopes she had of a separate room were destroyed, for this was certainly worthy of the name ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Purple Bedroom</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ he had mentioned to the elf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A purple carpet was laid across the floor, so thick and fluffy Hope could already imagine squelching her toes in the wool strands. A dark desk sat against a wall, stacks of paperwork piled high on one side, with stationary neatly compiled on the other. A gold chandelier hung from the ceiling, purple candles already lit with softly glowing flames. At the centre of the room was a large bed, the mattress overthrown with large, soft-looking pillows and a heavy, so-purple-it-was-basically-black comforter. Finally, curled up on a smooth rock hovering over a large flame, was a scaly green snake, thankfully asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Merlin is that Nagini?</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hope shrieked. She backed up as fast as she could pushing herself behind Voldemort as though he was a human shield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who else?” Voldemort asked. He appeared amused by her reaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She tried to kill Mr Weasley! I watched her eat a muggle!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technically, I ordered her to, but yes. She is my most trusted, so of course she lives with me.” His tone became sharp. “Are you going to have a problem with that, Hope?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flinched under his gaze, taking another step back. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent.” He cupped her face, and it took everything in her not to flinch. She was suddenly all too aware of the total power imbalance. “I would hate for my pets not to get along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not your </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will live with me. I will care for you, feed you, provide. We are not equals, but you are not below me. What would you have me call you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hope apparently didn't have a response fast enough for him, because he dropped her chin in place for her hand and tugged her into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t like the word,” she muttered, following him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will endeavour to find a more suitable term for yourself, then.” He smiled at her as though he had solved all her problems, and there was no need to fuss further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you are understandably questioning today’s events, so in turn for my full honesty, I ask you to remain silent while I explain myself fully, first. Then, if you have any further questions, you may ask. Is that amenable to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah.” It was more than Hope had hoped for, and so she sat down on the edge of the bed and dutifully kept her mouth closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, my dear, are fifteen years old. When I was fifteen, I had begun to claim a few associates as my followers, though their tasks and submissiveness were slim. Why? I was a teenager who had only newly been introduced to magic and the Wizarding World. To create connections was near impossible, and to say I was a master of everything with a vast and unbeatable array of knowledge would be a lie. I was magically powerful, of course. But I had had but four mere years to establish myself. In other words, I was like you; ambitious, trying to achieve things far over my head-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- for the time and experience that I had. You, Hope Potter, are a teenager. A child. Do you have the potential to be great? Of course. But you have no more education than any other Hogwarts student, so how is it that the world fairly expects you to become their saviour, their Golden Girl?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like helping people,” Hope defended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you? Or is that just what you believe your destiny is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m - I don’t like seeing people get hurt. I’m not like you,” Hope said, her face burning with rage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve truly wounded me,” Voldemort said, his voice dripping with irony. “May I continue? The point is, dearest, that you are a teenager who was forced into a situation you never should have had to deal with. Now, some may argue that that is beneficial to me, and of course, it is, but I see something in you of myself, and damn my empathetic self but I want to save you when no one saved me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disbelief was written on Hope’s face as clear as day. “You want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>save</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just said that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My biggest danger is </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>and your cronies!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I disagree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voldemort, who had been pacing as he explained, sat next to Hope on the bed. “You forget I have had spies reporting on your home life, and that I have a unique view into your mind and memories. I know what kind of relatives you live with, and it is evident they are the worst of muggle scum. Your upbringing reminds me of mine, and while I may not care if it were anyone else, you and I are two sides of the same coin. Our past, present, and future are interlocked with each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You expect me to believe that the scary, evil dark lord Voldemort took in his mortal enemy because they both had shitty upbringings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it does help that you’ve called for neutrality, and that if I take you in you will hopefully stop trying to become my downfall.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> the real motive,” Hope snarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all. You are a minor inconvenience and delay in my plans; you joining me makes little difference,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> say I was joining you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Semantics.” Voldemort grinned. “Any further questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I allowed to ask you things later?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would hardly be able to stop you,” he said, and it was as close to permission as she would get, so she shook her head ‘no’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was obvious to Hope that he would never actually give her a proper answer or explain himself, but she supposed that for the time being, it hardly mattered. If he wanted to suddenly become a benevolent man towards orphans, and if that meant she was allowed to stop having to look over her shoulder at Hogsmeade and test her food for poison at dinner, then that was worth the lack of answers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” He smiled at her. “Thank you for being so quiet, Hope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this something they were doing now? Thanking each other?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Um, thank you for explaining.” And then, because why the hell not, “And thank you for saving me.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>DAMN, I was NOT expecting such a positive response to my random writing, but thank you so, SO much. Comment on what you loved or hated - any feedback is fully welcomed.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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